


I'm Up In The Sky

by Lion_owl



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Brig's POV, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Other, Pining, Sexual Tension, probably set sometime in between 'Inferno' and 'Terror of the Autons'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: “There ought be a reason for us being in here,” the Doctor says after several minutes."There is," Alistair says. "We're hiding from the alien who came here intent on killing you.""Exactly," the Doctor says. "Welook likewe're hiding. It’s conspicuous.""Well what do you propose?""That we should kiss."
Relationships: The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, Third Doctor/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	I'm Up In The Sky

The afternoon begins with a call about a crashed spaceship. A small shuttle which is damaged enough to easily get inside, and is devoid of a pilot or any passengers when UNIT arrives. The Brigadier sends a group led by Benton to comb the surrounding area, and then goes inside the ship to check up on the Doctor and Ms Shaw’s progress.

The Doctor recognises the ship, claims to have encountered it once before, and says that if it is still owned the same person – whose attempts to invade a planet had been foiled, in the nick of time, by the Doctor and his then-companions Ben and Polly – then they should all be very worried indeed.

“Liz, my dear,” he says, writing something down on a piece of paper and handing it to her. “Would you be ever so good as to nip back to HQ and fetch this from my TARDIS? We’ll very likely need it.”

“Of course,” she says, grinning. “If you’ll let me borrow Bessie.” 

And, as it transpires, it is indeed the same person the Doctor suspected. Following their defeat, they had somehow tracked the TARDIS to Earth, now with the goal of revenge.

Revenge which seems to centre around wanting the Doctor dead.

What an awkward reunion that must have been.

Alistair hadn’t witnessed said reunion, he’d gone to radio Benton for an update, and upon heading back to the ship, almost collides with the Doctor who is sprinting away from it. Not far behind, he can see someone else following him.

“Run, Brigadier,” he says without stopping, grabbing his arm and practically dragging him along. He doesn’t take much telling.

“What’s going on?” Alistair demands once they stop running, having ducked into an alleyway.

“They got back while I was taking apart the navigation panel and, when they realised who I am, tried to kill me,” the Doctor says, while aiming his sonic screwdriver at the back door of a building. “Quickly, in here.” He pushes Alistair through the now-open door, and uses the screwdriver to re-lock it behind them.

“Now what?” Alistair asks. They’re at the bottom of a short flight of stairs, and he can hear voices and music drifting through the doors at the top.

“We find somewhere to hide until Liz gets back, and then we take a prisoner,” the Doctor says, taking the steps two at a time. “Come on.”

Which is how they got to end up standing slightly awkwardly in an alcove, in a low-lit corner of a busy pub, heads bowed carefully so as not to catch anyone’s eye.

“There ought be a reason for us being in here,” the Doctor says after several minutes.

"There is," Alistair says. "We're hiding from the alien who came here _intent on killing you_."

"Exactly," the Doctor says. "We _look like_ we're hiding. It’s conspicuous."

"Well what do you propose?"

"That we should kiss."

"In _public_?" he splutters, and _that_ – only objecting to the setting, not the thing itself, showing his cards – was _not_ the objection he was aiming for, but it's too late now. "Are you _mad_?"

"Possibly. But I don't think this particular subset of the public will mind too much,” the Doctor gestures vaguely around the noisy pub. “Come on, Brigadier, you must have noticed where we are."

"Of course I've _noticed_ , Doctor." He's never managed to pluck up the courage to visit such an establishment in his free time, and now he’s here by accident while running from a hostile alien who is trying to murder his friend. He might have hoped for better circumstances.

"Well, what do you think, then?" the Doctor prompts.

Alistair closes his eyes and mentally counts to ten, willing his body _not_ to let on to the Doctor _exactly_ how amenable he is to the idea of kissing him. He definitely sees the logic to the idea, but also he really, really fancies him, and the last thing he wants is to make things uncomfortable for them both if the Doctor doesn't reciprocate his feelings.

When he opens his eyes, the Doctor's face is as close to his as it was before, and he is staring expectantly at him.

He looks away, which doesn't improve matters because now the Doctor's breath is on his neck, and glances over the crowd. He spots the person who’d been chasing the Doctor, currently prowling about near the bar, and quickly turns back again before they're spotted back.

"You have a point," he admits, lifting a hand to rest on the Doctor’s shoulder. “They must have found the main entrance.”

The Doctor smiles, a little mischievously if Alistair’s judging correctly. “Are you sure about this?” He asks.

“I am. Are you?”

“Yes,” the Doctor says, and leans forward.

"...Sir?" Benton says, dragging Alistair from his thoughts.

It's been hours now, since Benton showed up with back-up, and Ms Shaw with the Doctor’s contraption, and they’d successfully captured the would-be murderer.

Hours since that kiss, and he's been replaying it over and over in his mind the entire time; keeps thinking that if _that_ was nothing more than a tactic, _imagine_ the sparks they’d create if they _meant it_.

"Yes, sorry Sergeant, what is it?"

"Just to let you know, Sir. The paperwork’s all been filled out and the Doctor’s sent for some organisation called the Shadow Proclamation to take custody of our prisoner – apparently there are warrants out for them in six different galaxies. If there's anything else?"

"Very good, Benton," he says. "No that's all, you can head home now."

"Thank you, Sir," Benton says, about-turns and leaves the room, leaving Alistair alone.

Alone with an itch to pay a visit to the laboratory. A tremendously bad idea. But going home without even saying cheerio wouldn’t dispel the awkwardness he’s hoping to avoid. At least if he goes now, Liz should still be there.

“Good evening, Brigadier,” Liz says, looking up when he walks into the lab. He doesn’t see the Doctor.

“Evening, Ms Shaw,” he greets her.

“He’s in there,” she says, pointing her thumb towards the TARDIS with a knowing smile. “He won’t be very long.”

Alistair sits down on one of the stools and finds himself tapping his fingers against the side of the workbench, suddenly nervous.

“Ah, Brigadier, good to see you,” the Doctor’s voice behind him. He walks over, the back of his hand brushing against Alistair’s shoulder as he dumps an armful of odd-looking gadgets on the work surface.

 _Good grief_ , Alistair thinks, desire fluttering through him. He _had_ become fairly good at ignoring his attraction to the Doctor, but now he’s had a taste, it’s quite probable he’s back at square one. He _really_ hopes the Doctor feels the same way.

“I just popped by to say goodnight to you both,” he says, standing up again.

“Oh,” the Doctor says. And does he sound disappointed, or is that just wishful thinking?

“Well – goodnight, then. See you tomorrow,” he says. They both echo the words as he retreats for the door. When he gets home he’s going to have a _very_ cold bath.

The next morning is less of a nightmare. His mind is still replaying the kiss, and he catches himself staring at the Doctor’s lips a couple of times, but overall he feels a lot more composed after some time to sit with it all, and a good night’s rest.

After lunch, he returns to his office, locking the door so he won’t be disturbed, and turns to face the mountain of paperwork on his desk – and the Doctor, sitting in his chair, apparently.

“What are you doing there?” he asks.

“Waiting for you to get back,” the Doctor says, not moving.

“You could have come to find me, if you have something to say,” he says, rounding his desk and waiting patiently for the Doctor to stand from _Alistair’s_ chair.

“Not while you were in company,” he doesn’t stand.

“Well, I’m not now,” he says. “You can say it if you give me my chair back.”

“It’s about yesterday.”

Alistair’s stomach drops. “What about it?”

“Do you regret it?”

“Should I?”

The Doctor does stand, then. “You left in such a hurry.”

Damn it. _Damn it._

He realises he is tapping the tips of his thumb and middle-finger together rapidly, and clenches his fist to stop the movement.

They could skirt around the issue, but that would only drag out the inevitable, whatever the inevitable turns out to be. Good _or_ bad.

“No, I don’t regret it,” he says honestly. “But I’ll never bring it up again if you don’t want me to.”

“What if I do want you to?” the Doctor asks. “What if I…”

“If you…?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’ll confess, I wasn’t thinking only tactically when I suggested it.”

“Nor I when I agreed to it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it either – I,” he hesitates. He’s never been all that good at expressing what he’s thinking how he’s thinking it, especially when it concerns his own emotions. But he has to try: “I left promptly because I worried that things would be uncomfortable between us if you don’t feel the way I do.”

“Well, I suppose it’s fortunate I do feel that way, then.”

They are very close again, apparently having gravitated towards each other while they were talking. If they kiss again, he doesn’t think there’s any coming back from this one. His heart is threatening to beat right out of his chest as the Doctor’s hands come to rest on his waist, and he lifts his own to the Doctor’s chest – and wow, he’d forgotten he has _two_ hearts, both of which are also beating very quickly. Although of course, maybe that’s the normal heart-rate for a Timelord, but maybe not. He hopes not.

When their lips finally meet again, he feels as if he is on fire.

He would very much like it if the Doctor were to press him against the wall.

As if reading his mind, the Doctor does exactly that a second later, slowly walking him the short distance backwards until he is fully sandwiched between the wall and the Doctor’s body. It belatedly occurs that there’s no avoiding the Doctor making certain observations now, but he isn’t as worried this time.

He’s pined for so long, and this is perfect.

“Wow,” is all he manages to say when eventually he has to come up for air. Annoyingly, the Doctor is only slightly out of breath. At least he seems to be similarly speechless.

They continue to stand there holding each other for several moments.

“I really must get some work done,” he says eventually, although he can’t imagine that being a very successful endeavour, he should at least try. “And Ms Shaw will be wondering where you’ve got to. But, uh… would you like to come over for dinner this evening?”

“That sounds splendid, Alistair,” the Doctor says, releasing him and stepping back. They’re both smiling.

“Very good,” he says. “Now go, and try not to blow up any lab equipment.”

“Now I can’t make any promises on that,” the Doctor says. “But I’ll try.”

As predicted, he can’t focus on a single word of his paperwork all afternoon. 

**Author's Note:**

> the title i got from [_Fire and Ice_ by Ad Infinitum](https://www.metalkingdom.net/videos/ad-infinitum-fire-and-ice-audio-11869)
> 
> kudos & comments always appreciated


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